


heart shaped bruises and late night kisses

by dingletragedy



Category: EastEnders
Genre: Flowers, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Plot What Plot, Snowball Fight, Summer Love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a christmas fic in july lol, bathtime fluff, morning fluff, post kidnap fluff, top!callum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2020-07-08 20:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingletragedy/pseuds/dingletragedy
Summary: a collection of ben x callum tumblr prompts & rambles#16- Ben is cheeky, sarcastic; he’s flirty and charming when he wants to be, eyes full and big. He sings loud and unashamed, watches the mouth of whoever is talking intently and speaks low. He’s responsive to the smallest of touches, pliant under Callum’s hands. He’s a wind-up, but to can charm the pants of anyone he wants.And yet often, he’s the opposite. He’s closed in and quiet, distant and unaware, insecure and frightened. He’s an open book to Callum, and still, he remains the most private person he’s ever known.





	1. what i have is right here

It’s tree decorating day. _ Apparently.  _

Ben had not known this ten minutes ago, when he was still dreaming and dead to the world. Nor had he known it five minutes ago, when his Mum all but knocked his door down and dragged him out of the comfort of his bed.

_ He knows now.  _

“Mum,” he wines into his plate of buttery toast, “I told you, I’m busy today. I ain’t got the time to be decorating the pissin’ Christmas tree.”

“You say that, yet you won’t tell me * _ what _ it is you’re busy doing,” says Kathy, calm and collected, sipping on her brew. She’s already been up and out this morning, and Ben swears that woman doesn’t stop, not even for five seconds. Still, it doesn’t make him want to help her out any more. 

“I -” Ben starts.  _ I’m seeing Callum; he’s taking me out and then I’m gonna get him to blow me in the back of his van,  _ he thinks. “I’m busy,” he says instead. 

“Doing what?” And God, she’s relentless. 

“I’ve just got things to do,” he tries, caves only seconds later, though. “Fine. I’ll decorate the bloody thing, if it means that much to you.” 

“You know what Ben Mitchell, you’re a lifesaver,” his Mum smiles.  _ It’s just a Christmas tree, who actually cares,  _ he wants to say, but opts against it. It’s not worth the list of reasons ’ _ why they need a decorated tree today’ _ his Mum would no doubt reel off. “Right, I best dash, got a stag do of two grooms to prepare for. Love ya.”

And with a sugary kiss to Ben’s cheek, she’s gone. 

Ben digs in his pocket for his phone, pulls it out and immediately goes for Callum’s number. 

Ben [10:43]: sorry, gonna have to cancel today, mum’s got me on xmas tree duty :/ can’t get out of it! X

Callum [10:56]: are you serious? you’re cancelling on me for a christmas tree? 

Ben [10:57]: it needs decorating today - or santa won’t come :(

Ben [10:57]: … you could always come and help me 

Callum [10:58]: i think i’ll pass ta 

Ben [11:00]: aw come on cal, it’ll be fun 

Callum [11:02]: well we obviously have different ideas of fun 

Callum [11:02]: my idea of fun is spending the day alone, with you, alone, drinking and eating 

Ben [11:03] we’ll be alone here, all day - and i’ll even get some beers in 

Ben [11:03]: please callam 

Ben [11:05]: i’ll order us a chinese? Xx

Callum [11:10] fine. i’ll be round in an hour. 

Ben is dragging a suspiciously heavy box full of Christmas decorations out of the storage cupboard when he hears a _ barely-there  _ knock at the door. 

Callum always arrived at Ben’s door quietly. He wasn’t exactly sneaking in, no one would bat an eyelid if they saw Callum turning up at Ben’s, not really. No one had a clue. But that parinoir was always lingering for Callum and Ben, because _ they knew.* _

"You haven't started decorating yet, I see," Callum mentions, making his way back into the room behind Ben. 

“Well done captain obvious,” Ben remarks smartly. “Was waitin’ for you, I don’t even know how you decorate a tree.” 

"Wait," Callum starts with furrowed eyebrows, "you don't know how?"

"Like - I always mess it up and make it look like proper shit. Can never do the lights, or put the topper on," he gestures to his body to refer to his shortness, "or like, the tinsel shit, either."

“Good job you’ve got me then, ain’t it?”

“Hm. My tall, dark, and handsome hero.” 

Callum laughs lightly, blush creeping up his cheeks at the compliment. “Well, I suppose I can put the star on the top for you," he offers.

"Do I have to pay extra for that?" Ben smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“Hm,” Callum ponders, “chuck in some spring rolls to that promised Chinese and we’ve got a deal.”

“Now that, I can do,” Ben agrees.

Callum gives the tree a once over then, judging it as if he’s some  arborist, “God, i t's practically dead." 

Ben glances back at the tree, eyeing it with slight disdain. “Yeah, it’s one of those fake ones,” Ben explains,“our Lexi is allergic to the real things. Saves us a bit of cash anyway.” 

"Fair enough, we can salvage it with the decorations, give it some love."

Ben rolls his eyes. He digs through the box a bit, before pulling out a long string of Christmas lights, red and green, it seems.  _ They’ll do.* _ “Start with these, will ya?” he asks Callum as he chucks the lights over. 

He stands on the opposite side of the Christmas tree, glancing through the branches to watch Callum’s face as he concentrates on weaving the lights around the backside of the tree, passing them off to Ben, who takes them easily enough, and wraps them around his side.

Ben turns back to the box of decorations, bending over to move some of the packaging around, trying to find certain pieces - Lexi will kill him if he doesn’t have every single one of her handmade baubles littering the tree. 

Another 30 minutes, and just as many arguments later and the tree is looking somewhat festive. All that’s missing now is the tinsel and the star. 

“This ain’t all gonna fit,” Callum states, pretty obviously, really. 

“Nonsense,” Ben replies, covered head to toe in tinsel. “Just chuck it all on.” 

“Twat,” Callum scoffs, smile not once leaving his mouth as he does exactly as Ben says, and  _ chucks  _ the tinsel over the tree. 

“Time for a beer break, I reckon.”

“Hm. Grab us one, will ya?” Callum shouts through to the kitchen. 

Ben returns, beers in tow and chucks himself down on the sofa next to Callum, kicking his legs up, and settling against Callum’s side. 

Callum raises his eyebrows but compiles, fitting an arm over Ben’s shoulders. He looks soft and happy and slightly exhausted when he grins, and his dimples come out in full force “I love you,” he mumbles into Ben’s shoulder.

Ben lights up, like he does every time Callum says those three words. “I love you too,” he presses into Callum’s lips along with a kiss. 

“I know,” Callum replies. He’s got a flush all the way down his neck, disappearing under the collar of his ridiculous purple jumper, and his eyes sparkle along with the fairy lights adorning the tree. 

“Today’s been good - nice -  _ normal _ ,” Ben voices before his mind catches up with him.

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Ben smiles. He runs a hand through Callum’s hair, down his cheek, over his neck. His palm is warm. Soothing. “Just me and you, decorating a Christmas tree, like a  _ real  _ couple.” 

He barely contains the sigh that escapes his lips then, he doesn’t want to ruin the mood, _ he won’t,  _ he just wishes - more than anything - that this was forever. 

Him, Callum, and a terribly decorated Christmas tree. 

Instead, he leans down and places a chaste kiss against Callum’s lips, before he diving back in, lips parted and head tilted back - fitting their mouths togethe. Just enough for him to lick at Callum’s lips and get inside.

“This is nice, too,” Callum says breathlessly, breaking their embrace.

Ben raises an eyebrow. “What? Me sprawled all over you?”

Callum wiggles his eyebrows at that, and his hips, pressing his crotch against Ben’s side, because he’s an arse like that. “Well yeah, that too. But you know what I mean,” Callum says, his expression sweet. “Us - just chillin’, talking, y’know.”

“Stay here tonight,” Ben voices suddenly. 

“You what?”

“Stay. Tonight.” Ben repeats. 

“I can’t, what about-“ 

“We’ll be fine,” Ben cuts Callum off. “Mum won’t be back till the early hours, Iain and Bobby are away, and Lexi’s having a sleepover.” 

“But-“ 

“But what? Whits away for the night, ain’t she? Mum won’t suspect a thing - and she definitely won’t dare come knocking,” Ben rationalises. 

And if the way the corners of Callum’s lips quirk up are anything to go by, Ben’s about to get exactly what he wants. 

“Go on then, you’ve twisted my arm.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Callum confirms, sinking deeper into Ben’s side. “Anyway, how about that chinese now?” 

“Go on then,” Ben relents. “I’m bloody stravin’” 

The top of the tree can wait. 


	2. how come things move on, how come cars don’t slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s nothing, Callum thinks, taking in Ben’s still form, quite as paralysing as grief.
> 
> But he’s sure he doesn’t need to tell Ben that.
> 
> or, i wrote this when thinking about the spoilers of callum attending the funereal of someone from the forces, and as i love the theory that callum had a lover in the army, this is what happened. it's not at all what i think will happen and i've had to ben canon a little but hey ho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of death and grief. look after yourselves xx 
> 
> title from everglow - coldplay

The service passes by in a blur of tears and strangled breathing, and before Callum knows it, they're being signalled to rise. It's surreal, unimaginable, that inside that coffin is the body of the man so young, so brave, so wonderful. 

He tries not to think about it too much, because it hurts. It just hurts so much. 

There's the feeling of time moving too slow and too fast simultaneously, dragging by sluggishly while everything feels as though it happens so fast that he doesn't have time to comprehend anything.

He needs to get out of here. 

The night is quiet, a submarine world made of darkness and cobalt blue. The only sounds being the distant noise of traffic and Callum’s tight fist knocking on the Beale’s front door.

“I can't sleep,” Callum starts as the door swings open, a sleepy Ben appearing on the other side, “can I - uh - can I stay here tonight?”

It’s clear from the look of shock that settles on Ben’s face that it’s not the opening he’s expecting. (And Callum can’t blame him really, it is the middle of the night, after all). 

“Why?” Ben question. 

“Please Ben, just - please,” Callum asks. He’s a little scared of how calm and articulate he sounds, considering the amount of beers he’s downed. 

“Yeah course, sorry - come in.” Ben says eventually, voice soft, as if approaching a scared animal. 

He can feel Ben’s gaze following him as shuffles awkwardly on his doorstep, his eyes burning something fierce, something Callum now recognised as concern.

Instantly he feels swallowed by it, but then Ben steps aside to let Callum in, the door closing behind him. He leans against it and ducks his head, pushes his thumb and forefinger into his eyes to stop the tears threatening to spill. He allows himself one ragged, broken breath, before he knocks his head back against the door and looks at the dull ceiling, the weight in his chest tugging everything down until it feels like he’s sinking through the floor.

It's just as well Ben there’s to catch him.

“I’m sorry,” Callum announces once he’s composed himself again, words muffled where he’s slumped against Ben’s chest. 

Ben shakes his head a little. “Why? You have nothing to be sorry for”.  
  
“I’m sorry for just turnin’ up - being a burden like this”.  
  
Ben’s answers are fast and quick, like a slingshot. Not letting Callum doubt himself for one second. “You’re not a burden”.  
  
“Ain’t your problem though, am I?” 

“Maybe not. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be though.” Ben says, more honest than ever. 

Callum doesn’t want to crumple, but he feels his face caving at Ben’s words, and he has to look away again. He feels caught out and hopeless, embarrassed that he fell into Ben like that just before, hurting because his brain is screaming at him to do it again, to press his face somewhere close and just breathe, to try and forget. Tears blur his eyes and his stomach twists and it hurts because now that he’s let himself just have that little slice of warmth, he craves it like nothing else, craves the intimacy he can only find in dreams and memories, _unreachable._

Ben’s hand leave his shoulder suddenly and Callum almost reaches for his wrists like a reflex, but he needs to put some distance between them before he goes and does something stupid like kiss Ben. 

Instead, he uses his words to distract his mind. “Thought I weren’t worth the hassle.” And yeah, that’s been playing on Callum’s mind for weeks now. 

“Yeah well - maybe I was being a tad dramatic with that one,” Ben says, voice thick with sudden emotion. “Seems I can’t stop thinking about you, actually.” 

An awful kind of silence descends upon them, then, like a thick fog. It’s eerie, with only the sounds of Callum’s hitched breaths and stray tears but it’s still too loud, too much. It still makes Callum wish he’d never come.

Until: “Cal? What’s up?” 

Tears spring into his eyes before he can stop them, he’s so frustrated and embarrassed and his mouth tastes vile, throat like sandpaper. For a moment, an anger in him rages so fierce that it almost shocks him, and he wants to lash out. He wants to scream at Ben, wants to make him understand but he can’t even bring himself to say the words.

When he speaks again, his voice sounds foreign even to his own ears, and Callum notices how Ben straightens himself up against it. “I’ve been to a funeral,” he sees as a means of explanation. 

“Oh,” Ben says, obviously not expecting the short answer Callum gave. “Are you alright?” Ben says eventually, quiet, with an air of generality that Callum both appreciates and loathes, because he can’t even begin answering that question. 

“Yeah,” he says, after a bout of silence, picking at the skin of his thumb, gaze lowered.

Ben just nods and takes a strained sip of his can. Callum can feel him staring, and eventually he has to look up because his cheeks are hot. When he does, his throat tightens. Even in this dreary, dark light Ben’s eyes are sharp and bright, pale in comparison to the night sky. Callum settles on staring at a spot by Ben’s shoulder, because his eyes keep watering the cut on his lip, or the bruise 

“How was it? I mean… under the circumstances?” Ben asks, and Callum watches he watches as the bow of Ben’s lashes sweep downwards just like his own.  
  
_Exhausting. Painful. Unimaginable. Heartbreaking._  
  
“It was... y’know. It was all right.” It felt wrong to reduce the funeral service as being all right, as if he hadn’t been completely undone since the moment he awoke this morning. “It was a nice service - as nice as one can be.”

“Did you know them well?”

“Uh - yeah - yeah, we were close. He was-” Callum starts, voice constricting around the words. “We were in the army together.” He’s trying to sound strong, but his voice wavers on every other syllable.

“Where’s Whitney now? Did you go with her?”

“No - no I couldn’t take her there with me - I couldn’t,” Callam says, his words forming as a jumbled mess. “I went alone - I had to.”

“That must’ve been awful. I’d of come with you, y’know. All you had to do was ask.” His voice was taut with concern and Callum felt his resolve give a little, just enough to have his throat constrict tightly around the words fighting their way upwards.  
  
“I didn’t stay long. Just needed to…” What had he needed to do? _See him? Commemorate him? Ease his own conscience?_ “Pay my respects,” he chose, and the words sounded just as hollow as they felt, and then: “Say goodbye.” 

It's a constant ache in his chest, this grief, an emptiness that's difficult to explain. He feels void, like a clawed hand has dug out everything that's inside him, leaving a gaping hole in the middle of his chest, edges torn and jagged. There's a constant vice-like grip squeezing his heart, and the feeling of missing something so intense that it's choking him. 

The feeling of loss, the pain, is beyond words. 

_There’s nothing,_ Callum thinks, taking in Ben’s still form, _quite as paralysing as grief._

But he’s sure he doesn’t need to tell Ben that.

Ben’s bed is a mess of covers and tangled sheets that must’ve been thrown off in his haste to answer the door. Callum doesn’t mind, though, in fact he finds in weirdly comforting. 

He’s across the room in two long strides, on the bed and slumping down on top of the sheets before he can think about it too much.

Ben joins him on the bed after a beat; two, sits down opposite Callum, legs crossing at his ankles and Callum can’t help but seek out his warmth. 

A comfortable calmness washes over them, something that makes Callum feel like he belongs. With Ben here he feels safe, and calm and himself. 

( _Not just for the first time all day, but the first time in weeks, admittedly.)_

That's why he stays, legs stretched on Ben's bed and the moon up as they speak quietly into the night. 

Bens itching to take Callum’s hand, he call tell, it’s obvious with the way his fingers are twitching where their brushing lightly against Callum’s thigh. He wants to allow Ben to give him what little comfort his touch might offer, wants to let him help. Wants to share their grief, lean against each other, rely on each _other._

_He wants Ben to hold his hand._

Ben ruins the moment, though, he goes and asks Callum if he wants to talk about _him._

And yeah, Ben’s not stupid, is he? 

“I don’t know,” Callum starts. “Never really ‘ave before, feels weird.” 

“I think maybe it would help if you did.” Ben offers. 

“When did you become a trained counsellor?” Callum asks, and yeah there’s a slight heat behind his words but he regrets it instantly. 

“Arlight, no need to bite my ‘ead off, I’m just tryna help.”

“I know,” Callum sighs. “You are. Helping, I mean.” 

“I’m glad. Honestly, I am.” 

“I’m just not ready yet. I can’t dredge up all those memories, not today, not after the funeral.” 

“That’s understandable,” Ben says, a kindness in his eyes. “But when you are ready.”

“I know,” Callum coughs awkwardly, and yeah, he might’ve seen this side of ben a few times now but it’ll never not throw him off how world. “Cheers.” 

Ben shifts his body then, changes his position so his entire body is angled at Callum, one leg settled under himself and the other stretched out, foot knocking against Callum’s thigh. 

“C’mere.” Ben’s voice is soft as he made a move to pull Callum close to his chest, hugging him tightly. He held him close, rubbing slow circles across his back, and Callum just buries himself further into Ben’s embrace. 

“Thank you, Ben,” Callum whispers into the soft material of Ben’s pyjama top.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Ben replies says softly. 

“I do,” Callum says, as earnest as he can manage. “You’re kind.” He pauses softly, getting lost in some memory far, far away. _A memory of soft skin and callused hands and whispered confessions._

Ben removes one hand from Callum back then, places it against the edge of the bed as he leans back slightly and hangs his head. “I ain’t, you know that as well as anyone.” 

“Ben,” Callum says tiredly, eyes closing against his will. “Just - just let me thank you. I know it might not mean anything to you, but anyone else would have just left out there on their doorstep tonight. So, thank you.” 

“It does,” Ben says. Callum looks at him, and Ben continues after a beat and: “mean something to me.” 

He smiles shyly, feeling heavy as sleep pulls at him. He presses a kiss to Ben’s cheek, then kicks his suit trousers off, feeling settled for the first time all day. 

It’s nice, feeling like some things are shifting slowly back into place again. Everything is crooked, empty, but with Ben here - his hands clasped tightly around Callum’s own - the hole in his chest seems to stitch itself back together a little.

The room falls silent once their both settled under the covers, the night casting its own spell. Callum closes his eyes and lets Ben’s breathing lull him to sleep, time expanding and contracting around them, as if this bed were the beginning and the end of each and every world.


	3. i want to be with you everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the conditions, Ben is enjoying this holiday more than he’d ever thought possible. He’s already eaten his bodyweight ice-cream, bought an entire suitcase’s worth of souvenirs for Lexi, and taken enough photos to fill a scrapbook. 
> 
> or, ben takes callum back to the place he called home for a while - a seaside town in france.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this stemmed from the prompt “i’m never letting you go” that ee-ballum sent me on tumblr!

They’ve been wandering the city for the better part of four hours, now. Ben’s ears have burned to a crisp, despite the generous amount of sunscreen Callum made him put on, and the t-shirt and shorts he’s wearing are doing nothing to make the outside temperature feel a little less like an inferno.

Despite the conditions, Ben is enjoying this holiday more than he’d ever thought possible. He’s already eaten his bodyweight ice-cream, bought an entire suitcase’s worth of souvenirs for Lexi, and taken enough photos to fill a scrapbook. 

After another day of wandering streets, hopping from bar to bar, they emerge on the foot of the sea, and Ben leads them towards their next stop; a dinky little restaurant in the port. 

The sun is setting now, the sky above pulling up colours Ben didn’t know existed. The cooling heat seems to have brought a flurry of buzz with it, families sitting for evening meals, friends rooting for the cheapest bars and lovers making promises under the sunset. It makes Ben shiver all over when he realises him and Callum now come under that last category. 

“Ben?” Callum says before they reach their destination, squeezing at Ben’s hand and bringing them to a stop by the glistening water.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Callum voices. “For, y’know, bringing me here.”

Ben beams, feels as bright as the French sun, and pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. “You like it, then?”

(There something Ben can’t quite explain about this city; something like light, like life itself, that pulses through its streets and Ben’s veins too. He’d never felt it before, when he was here without this love and this life, back then, he’d just been a lonely boy in a strange city. But now, standing in front of the familiar string of restaurants, with Callum’s hand tucked tightly in his own, seeing the shadow of everything it used to be, he felt a happiness like never before). 

“Hm, it’s beautiful, innit,” Callum says, eyes flicking over the port ahead, it’s layered with boats only very few can afford but they don’t interest Ben one bit. Not when he has Callum’s hand in his own; his love is more than worth its weight in gold. “It helps that I’ve got to experience it with the best tour guide ever.”

And that makes Ben laugh, lean close and steal a peck on the lips, moving closer to Callum on instinct. There’s a feeling like fireworks bursting right under Ben’s skin, his mouth hot where it meets Callum’s - like that’s all he ever wants to do - _it is._

“And this is still what you want, right?” is the first thing that makes it through Ben’s daze. “Spending a whole week with me hasn’t put you off? Because-“

Callum cuts him off with a kiss. He wraps his arms around Ben’s neck and presses their lips together. “No,” he whispers, once he’s pulled back a little. He’s still so close Ben can see the flecks of caramel in his eyes. “No, you ain’t put me off. If anything, it’s just made me want this _even_ more,” he looks Ben in the eye, gesturing wildly between them, “Me, you, Lex - a future. I want all of it, with you, Ben. I mean - if you still wanna?”

Ben shakes his head against the emotion he’s feeling at Callum’s words. He feels like stars, inside and out, like his supernova has finally exploded and left behind a dark, starry sky – clarity. _Maybe this is it._ This is what Ben has been waiting for before he even knew it. 

Callum is his new beginning, and for once, the end is nowhere in sight.

“Of course I want that, Cal, bloody hell,” he says in response, brushing his fingers over Callum’s bottom lip, not caring for the growing crowd of holidaymakers wavering around them. “I love you,” he adds, because they’re the only words humming underneath his skin, itching to press themselves into every inch, every crevice of Callum.

“I love you too,” Callum replies instantly. 

“Good, because I’m never letting you go, _Halfway_.” 

Callum beams at him them, smile stretching underneath Ben’s thumb. Ben feels like he’s been flung into some alternative universe, one in which the sun and the moon and the stars all come out all at once, tilting the world on its axis.

He kisses Callum with everything he’s got. He kisses him with _I love you’s_ and _I need you’s_ and _I want the rest of my life with you’s._


	4. orange juice and pink lemonade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "you’ve always got me” - featuring sunsets. 
> 
> so let’s pretend ballum had the wild n intense affair we all had planned n they fell in love. the stag do happened as canon but callum spent the night, one last night, at ben’s!

Everything is shrouded in dusty, deep blue light, the very first touches of dawn hesitating over the hills. When Ben peels his eyes open, it’s dark, and his whole body is warm.

They’re still lying on top of the covers, curled together. Ben pushes his face deeper into Callum’s neck, trying not to wake him as he swallows around the lump in his throat. He wonders if Callum can feel how fast his heart is beating, how hard it’s thumping against his ribs.

His legs are itching to move, to go. His Mum will be up soon, barging in with a cuppa and in return getting the shock of her life.

“Cal,” he whispers softly, trailing his fingers over his arm. The older boy’s breathing is deep, his lashes fanned out softly and brow furrowed slightly.

Ben lifts a hand to his face and brushes a stray piece of hair from his forehead, kisses beneath his jaw. “Callum, we gotta get up.”

Callum shifts, nose scrunching as he makes a tiny noise of protest in the back of his throat. Finally, he blinks his eyes open, pressing them together harshly before blinking rapidly, adjusting to the early morning light.

“Morning,” Callum murmurs nervously, biting his bottom lip. Ben’s hand drops back to his waist, and he tugs him closer with a gentle sigh.

“Alright?” Callum sniffs, nuzzling his face closer. Ben lets out a shuddering breath as Callum fingers start to trace the skin of his back, wiggling them just under his shirt.

“Yeah,” he exhales. Callum leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips, holding him there for so long, just breathing.

“We need to get out of here soon,” Ben says as he pulls away regretfully. Callum lets out a little whine, but Ben knows there’s more to it than that.

He is getting married to someone who isn’t Ben today, after all.

“’s early,” he huffs softly, ducking in to kiss at Ben’s neck.

“I know,” he says, “but my Mum will be up soon, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want her catching you sneaking out of here on your wedding day.”

“Good point. I wish we could just lie here forever though,” Callum says, and then he pulls away slightly, turning his face up to the ceiling, mouth settled in line.

“Me too,” Ben whispers, heart sinking low. “You don’t have to do this Callum. You don’t have to marry her.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I owe it to her,” Callum says, as if it’s that simple. “I can’t break her heart, not again.”

“But what about you? What about what you want?” Ben all our pleads.

“What I want doesn’t even come into it.”

And just like that, Ben knows the conversation is over.

They kiss lazily then, slick mouths careful not to catch cut lips and soft fingers that press in just the tiniest bit. Slowly, the light around them lifts and blue becomes purple.

“I want to show you something,” Ben says, sitting up slowly. Callum’s hand settled on his back.

“What?” He says.

“Come on,” Ben smiles softly down at him, tugging at his hands. “We have to be quick. I usually leave earlier than this.”

Callum looks puzzled, but Ben presses a kiss to his forehead and grabs his hands, tugging him up.

When they trot down the stairs, still dressed in last night’s clothes, Ben can already feel his stomach churning nervously.

Everything is slick with rainwater outside, the road shiny against the morning light and little droplets clinging to every surface. They start their ride silently, radio kicking up a slow rhythm as they drive.

The clouds are soft and sparse, filtering across and over them in long swoops. There’s a mix of violet and pink, the soft beginnings of a fragile blue. It looks like is goes on forever, like life is impossibly huge, infinite, untouchable.

They jump out of the car beside a row of trees and Ben ducks between them.

“Where are you taking me?” Callum calls out, looking unsure.

“Just trust me,” Ben says over his shoulder.

“What have you dragged me up here for, then?” Callum sighs, but his eyes are gentle, and he’s reaching for Ben’s hand.

Ben takes is hesitantly, warm and smooth and bigger than his own, and pulls him towards the fence line.

“Careful,” Ben says as he weaves his way through the wire. Callum follows slowly, shoulders hunched up to his ears as he tries to crawl through with his gangly limbs.

When they reach the peak, the first rays of sun are rolling over the hills.

“Oh,” Callum breathes out, coming to stop beside Ben, eyes wide as he looks over everything. “Oh, wow.”

They stand there in silence, and Ben’s fingers won’t stop shaking. He’s never, ever shown anybody this before. This is his, this is something private, something too close to his heart. He watches Callum watching the sky, his mouth parted slightly, hair coiled tight.

“Do you - do you come up here everyday?” Callum asks, eyes on the horizon.

“I try to,” Ben says. “I’ve always been an early riser, ever since I was a kid. Then I started running too, like to take a detour up here.”

“It’s beautiful,” Callum breathes.

“The world seems a lot nicer from up here, kinder, doesn’t it?” Ben says, and he doesn’t mean to sound so bitter.

“Yeah,” Callum says slowly, squinting. “It does.”.

They settle into silence again then, watching as the sun comes up, pulling an array of colours with it. Ben closes his eyes and breathes in through his nose.

“I wish things could be different, honestly I do.” Callum says, and Ben can tell he’s trying not to sound so desperate, not to let the strain in his voice show.

“Callum,” Ben says, eyes and voice deadly serious. He grabs onto both his hands and holds them tight, looking him right in the eye. “I know, me too. But I understand, I do.”

“You do?”

He tilts his chin up and presses his lips to Callum’s forehead, tugging him closer for a tight hug. He’s warm and smells of Ben’s sheets and sleep. “I’ve been where you are Cal, more or less. I get it.”

“Don’t mean you like it though.” Callum says, and Ben just nods, because he’s got that spot on.

“Where are you gonna tell Whit you’ve been?” He asks quietly.

“I’ll figure it out,” Callum says. “If she’s even bothered.”

“We should get back,” Ben says, pulling away. The sky is just pink-tipped now, blues washing out the clouds and making them seem almost translucent. “Don’t think the grooms supposed to turn up in another man’s t-shirt and joggers.”

They shuffle down towards the roadside together, twisting their way through awkwardly. When they reach the car, Callum’s hands fall to Ben’s waist, and his body sags under the weight of the last few days.

“C’mere,” Callum prompts, tugging at Ben’s waist.

“Cal,” Ben protests, hand pressed firmly to Callum’s chest. “Not anymore. We can’t.”

“Just one more time,” Callum breathes quickly. He runs his tongue along Ben’s bottom lip, bumps their noses together and Ben is hopeless. Always has been when it comes to Callum.

By the time they part, Ben’s lips are tingling, shiny and red. Callum’s cheeks are flushed, and the sun dances around them in ribbons of soft glow.

Once they reach the cusps of the square, Ben slows the car to a holt to let Callum out, the older man opting to walk the rest of the journey back to his flat. Ben knows he’s just trying to prolong the whole process. He can’t blame him really.

“Callum?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve always got me,” Ben murmurs into the thick morning air as Callum hesitantly opens the car door.

Callum turns, eyes pleading: “Do I?”

“Yeah,” Ben answers, Callum’s smile is strangely sad, crumpled as he picks at a loose thread. “Whatever happens today, tomorrow, I’ll be here if you need me.”

And with that they share a quiet goodbye and reluctantly go their separate ways.

_In this moment._

_In this life._


	5. i found love hidden inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> callum goes to visit a still unconscious ben at the hospital - featuring flowers

Callum picks out a bundle of bright flowers, all sharp blues and shocking purples, wrapped in thin clear plastic. He ignores the look the questioning look Hunny give him over the counter, a lingering, judgmental - yet soft, gaze.

With his breath held, Callum flags down a cab with only one destination in mind.

He spends the journey with one hand tapping nervously against his thigh and the other with a vice grip around the flowers. His heart leaps into his throat at the sight of a hospital, grimy walls and white light reflecting off the dirty windows where the sun hits.

In the end he sits outside the hospital for the best part of half an hour, courage building slowly with each passing second. He thinks about signing the name card resting on top of the bunch of flowers, wondered if a simple ‘ _C X’_ would be too obvious. In the end he settles for scribbling a messy little love heart, hands shaking and heart too.

His eyes mist up as he finally makes his way through the hospital and reaches ward 307, knowledge courtesy of Jay. He places the flowers down on the nurses desk gently, movements stiff.

“Hi, um - I was wondering if you could - could point me in the way of Ben Mitchell’s room?” Callum asks, barely a whisper, because everything feels so delicate, the world fragile enough to break with only a breath.

“Of course. Can I just take your name?”

“Callum Highway.”

“And what relation are you to Mr. Mitchell?”

“He’s my-” Callum says with an air of hesitance, fumbling with the steams of the flowers and looking away sharply. “My - _uh_ \- my partner. Ben’s my partner.”

The words seem to reverberate through the corridor, but the world doesn’t end like Callum had convinced himself it would.

“Lovely flowers,” she notes with a soft smile. “Right, he’s just down the corridor, if you want to follow me.”

He turns to follow her, only slightly panicked now, and tries to get the tremor in his limbs under control.

He takes a deep breath, and pushes the door open. It’s so intensely quiet in the room the nurse can probably hear the woosh of Callum’s heart dropping at sight of Ben’s uncharacteristically still form.

The only sound for a long while is the comforting beeping of the machines and Callum’s own heavy breathing. The bunch of flowers sit heavily in his hand whilst the two sides of his mind are at war with each other.

After the nurse has done her vital checks, she hangs the clipboard back on the end of Ben’s bed. “Everything’s looking as well as can be expected at this time. Press the buzzer if you need anything, though,” she adds with understanding eyes.

“Uh - yeah - cheers.”

“Talk to him, love. It’ll help,” she says, her voice laced with this understanding Callum isn’t quite familiar with.

Now, with the door closed against the rest of the world, Callum pulls up the plastic chair by Ben’s bedside and sits. It only takes a mere few seconds before he’s leaning across the bed, and placing one hand in Ben’s hair, the other clutched tightly around his hand. His fingers a constant pressure against Ben’s wrist. The steady beat of Ben’s pulse keeping him from sinking under.

“You’re taking your time waking up, ain’t ya?” Callum start, attempts to keep his voice light but with the way his throat is burning, it’s near impossible. “I would make some joke about ya needing your beauty sleep, but it ain’t right if I don’t get one of your snarky remarks in reply.”

“I talked to my brother about things - me - you - _us_ ,” he says, voice caught between the memories of his and Stuart’s conversation in the cafe. “I was all over the place, Ben. _So worried_. It all just came tumblin’ out. It weren’t too bad though, I think he understands now - kinda.”

Voice tight, Callum pushes himself to continue. “Put it this way, I don’t think he’ll be giving you another black eye anytime soon.”

Suddenly there’s this realisation at his fingertips, but he doesn’t know what to do with it. Instead he tucks his thumb between Ben’s fingers, prizes them apart to slot between his own, careful not to disturb any wires.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

“Ben-“ he starts up again, voice hoarse. “Ben I - I’m sorry - sorry I didn’t come sooner. Sorry I haven’t been here with you the whole time. But I’ve wanted to be, I swear, more than anything.”

Suddenly he’s crying. There are actual tears gathering in the corners of his eye and he can’t push them back this time. It’s too much. He’s spent all week trying to fight of various emotions, but here, with Ben within reach; bloodied and bruised and so bloody quiet; Callums helpless.

He tries to stop the sounds that want to rip from his throat, muffling them with his sleeve before wiping roughly at his eyes.

“You have to be okay,” Callum says fiercely, eyes never once leaving Ben’s face. If he could wake him with will alone, Ben would already be back on the square, causing trouble and getting himself punched. “I can’t - can’t do this without you Ben. And I don’t want to either.”

“I need ya, Ben,” it’s not a question, nor a statement, but more a plead. _Please don’t leave me Ben. Please._

No one disturbs them for the rest of the evening, not even when the night is drawing in and visitors are rushing out to avoid the dreaded car park traffic. Callum sits there long enough to lean up and get himself comfortable in the chair, sliding it closer to Ben’s bedside so that he can keep that hold on his hand. He craves the contact, need it to reassure himself that Ben’s here and alive, heart beating in a steady rhythm.

A deep, intense sleeplessness has followed him for days now, but with Ben by his side, he lets his eyes slip closed.

He wakes a couple of hours later to someone draping a blanket over his body. Callum recognises her as the nurse with the warm smile, he mumbles a thank you before falling back into a sleep filled with dreams of _Ben_.

If he ends up staying at the hospital all night, only waking as the first rays of sun claw their way to the sky, blazing oranges and yellow hitting the widow, then that’s nobody’s business but his own.


	6. i've been so lucky so far (it's outrageous)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which callum gets some help for the memories eating him up inside, grows as a person, and then returns to the place that helped save him, but this time he’s the one doing the helping. and ben is the proudest boyfriend. 
> 
> title from: 10/10 - rex orange county

Ben is by his side the second he walks through the door, two beers in hand and a somewhat nervous smile playing at his lips. “So, how was your first day?” 

“Good. Hard, you know, there’s all these people with such awful stories, memories that are eating them up from the inside and you just want to help them all, but there isn’t enough hours in the day.”

“Sounds tough.” Ben says, the crease in his brow a telltale sign that he’s spent the day worrying about Callum. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Cause no one would blame you if you ain’t.” 

“I said I was didn’t I?”

“I know, but that was before you started.”

“I loved it Ben, really. Being able to give something back to the charity that helped me, well it gives me this sense of honour, _of pride,_ and yeah - I can’t wait to go back tomorrow.” 

“You’re just - you’re brilliant, you know that?” Ben says, eyes wet.

“Cheers,” Callum replies, though he wants to say so much more. “My family - do you - you think they’d be proud of me?”

“Of course,” Ben says with such a confidence he almost has Callum believing him. “They’d be pretty stupid not to be.”

“Maybe.”

“Besides, I’m _so_ proud of you,” Ben tells him, and Callum has to shake himself of this warm fuzzy feeling flow through him as he sees Ben’s smile, full of admiration and pride and something Callums never seen before. “We both are, me and Lex.” 

Maybe his Mum would be proud of him now, his Dad even, or maybe he’ll never know, but it matters more that Ben’s proud of him, that Ben loves him.

_Ben and Lexi._

_His family._

“I’ll tell ya I’m proud of you every day for the rest of our lives, if it gets you believing it yourself.” With Ben’s words covering his heart like a warm blanket Callum finds his wrist, searches till he feels the pulse underneath his fingertips jump before resting his fingers in the gaps between Ben’s own.

“Rest of our lives, hey?” Callum teases with a soft smile. “That sounds good.” 

“You’re amazing, Callum,” Ben whispers, ernest, as he squeezes at Callum’s hand. “You have this massive heart and you’re always using it to make other people happy.”

Callum pulls away a little, facing Ben, and when their eyes catch again he finds that Ben’s are shiny, full, brows pinched as he stares right back, something akin to a revelation passing over his features, something Callum feels in his chest when Ben blinks. 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s true. It’s been so long since I’ve loved anyone like I love you,” he says. “You make me want to be a better person, Callum, to be kind and selfless, so I can be the person you deserve. Everything I’ve learnt lately, about kindness and life and _love,_ you showed me all of that. I don’t think you understand how–”

Callum has to kiss him then, because if doesn’t, he’ll cry. Callum lowers his back slightly, leans down to meet Ben right where they fit perfectly and sucks Ben’s bottom lip into his mouth. Ben makes a surprised little sound, but it takes him no time at all to lean into the kiss, hands settling on Callum’s hip, his back, like they belong. 

Time slows as they fall into the embrace, minimising the urgency and leaving only desire behind, all-consuming and intense. Callum attempts to dampen the heat licking its way through his veins but it’s hopeless. He always has been hopeless when it comes to Ben, so he kisses him with abandon, with every last ounce of love that he’s got to give. 

“I love you,” Callum says, and it breaks against Ben’s lips. “I love you so much.”

He runs his hands through Ben’s hair then, a little longer with the cold winter months; he touches the racing pulse at the hinge of his jaw, and trails down to where his heart is beating against the constraints of his chest, fast, alive. He can’t help pressing a smile to Ben’s lips, just to reiterate his love and happiness. 

“I love you too, Counsellor Highway”


	7. when you need a little love, i've got a little love to share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning is drowsy and dark, it feels as if Winter has crept over Walford in the last few days, settled and made its home months early. Yet despite the dark haze of the day, he sees nothing but warm oranges and anticipated pinks. And with Callum’s arm still wrapped around his middle, waking up feels more like falling into a dream than out of one.
> 
> or, a missing scene from the morning after the date before.

When Ben wakes, it’s to grey skies and warm sheets. He blinks once, _twice,_ lets his brain catch up to his body slowly. As he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, he realises that he actually feels rested, for the first time in a long time.

The morning is drowsy and dark, it feels as if Winter has crept over Walford in the last few days, settled and made its home months early. Yet despite the dark haze of the day, he sees nothing but _warm oranges_ and _anticipated pinks._ And with Callum’s arm still wrapped around his middle, waking up feels more like falling into a dream than out of one.

Ben can count every goose-bump littering Callum’s skin from here, every freckle and mole on the seemingly endless expanse of his body. His cheeks are still red with sleep, pillow creases adoring his face. But still, he looks like heaven. 

The sight of the older man, asleep here on Ben’s bed, eyes shut and mouth parted, makes Ben’s chest ache with want. It’s not the wild kind, not the fire that he feels waking up in his belly whenever he remembers that night in the park; but rather the longing hes felt for years, since Paul, the desire to have someone to be with; to be himself with.

Someone to hold when he needs comfort, someone to kiss when he needs nothing more than that. Someone to adore.

Someone to adore him right back.

_His heart is set, now, on Callum being that person._

Ben’s left hand goes slowly, fingers stretched out, and they land on Callum’s shoulder, curling when they reach smooth skin. The fingers travel down the shoulder, along his bicep, to his elbow, to his forearm, them down to his hand where they rest for a moment, drawing a circle against the back of it.  
  
The hand twitches, and Ben snatches his own back. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, maybe a small _morning,_ hopefully not a _what the hell are you doing_?

And it’s then - then that Callum looks up at him, lashes dark and his eyes shining like galaxies, a gorgeous flush staining his cheeks. 

“Hi,” Callum says, eyes fluttering and smile peeking, his voice raspy with sleep. Just this side of disoriented. There’s a softness about him, and it seems to be more than just the fact that he’s barely awake. 

“Hi yourself,” Ben says in turn. “Sorry if I woke ya.” 

“Nah, don’t quite mind waking up if it’s to this view.” One day, Ben is going to keel over with the sheer amount of feelings that Callum wakes up in him. 

“Callum Highway, are you flirting with me?” Ben teases. 

“Hm, you could say that,” Callum replies, scooting closer and slipping his leg between Ben’s. Suddenly they’re so, so close, the king size bed feeling like it’s shrunk in half. Callum’s body heat radiates even through the blankets, wraps around Ben all soothing and inviting. “Must still be half asleep.” 

“Cheeky git. You gonna kiss me then, or what?” Ben says, polite as ever, but there’s a tremor in his voice that gives him away.

Callum runs a hand through Ben’s hair then, thumb brushing against his temple. Ben expects their lips to crash together, a hard, bruising kiss, the desperate kind that would have their teeth clacking together, but it never happens. Callum’s hand lowers to cup around the side of his face, feather-light, and then presses his mouth to Ben’s so gently it makes his knees weak. It’s soft and cautious, new yet familiar. 

And Ben - surely, Ben is dreaming. Because he’s wished for so long that this would happen, would drive himself crazy dreaming about something half as much this, with Callum. 

“Thanks for letting me come with you guys last night, I had a really good time,” Callum says when he pulls away, eyes cast downwards, shyly.

“Don’t be daft, you’re one of us now ain’t ya?” Ben replies, then rolls over, pinning Callum beneath him with a grin. Callum raises an eyebrow, smiles, but doesn’t make any move to shove him off. 

“Is that a threat?” Callum laughs. 

“I’m proud of ya, you know?”

“What for?” Callum questions, deep crease forming between his brows, and Ben’s lips quirk at how oblivious this man is. 

“Everything. This week. What you did, standing up to your Dad like that, it was brave. _So brave_ ,” Ben emphasises. 

“Give over,” Callum tries to brush off, but Ben’s not quite done praising him, thank you very much. 

“Last night, you seemed so happy, light - _free_.” Ben’s trying to keep his voice light, but the sheer emotion creeping up his throat is threatening to spill between the sheets. “Think everyone could see it.”

“Well, I finally got that dance out of ya, didn’t I?” Callum jokes, but his eyes are serious when he looks at Ben. 

“Pf, I’m not sure I’d call that dancing.”

“Well, I’ll have to show you the ropes, won’t I?” Callum replies, eyebrows raised in suggestion. 

“Hm. Wouldn’t mind tango-ing with you, I suppose.” 

It’s raining outside now, the sound of it like far away foam from small swells, but the noise is drowned out when Callum laughs, leaning up to steal another kiss from Ben. And another, and another, until the room is only filled with the soft noises of their lips touching. Ben turns things up a notch then, pressing his tongue to Callum’s. Callum responds in kind, a slow, raspy slide along Ben’s bottom lip, and presses closer, he holds Ben with a tight grip, but his fingers stay gentle.

Ben feels this warmth spread all the way to his fingertips, burning where he’s touching Callum’s neck, squeezing his shoulder. He moves a little bit, trying to chase the warmth – that’s when Callum makes a noise and pulls away.

“Okay?” he asks, pressing an open palm to Callum’s chest in concern.

“Yeah,” Callum replies, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Just, uh - you promised me a fry-up and it’s nearly eleven now - might fade away soon, you know.” 

The butterflies that swarm Ben’s stomach as he laughs just seem to be there to point out the obvious.

He could love Callum Highway. 

_Deeply._

_Dangerously._

_Enternily._


	8. please don't go (i love you so)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspired by this prompt on tumblr: "could you write us a lil something of ben saying i love you to callum as the big gesture next week?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not really happy with this one at all but it was the best i could do, sorry!!!
> 
> title from breezeblocks -alt-J

“Alright?” Ben asks as he cautiously after making his way over the other side of the pub, where Callum has been nursing a pint for the last hour.

_(Or so he discovered during the earful he received from Mick.)_

“Fine,” Callum answers. Cold. Short. Ben can hardly blame him, really. “You?”

Ben ignores the question, this isn’t about him. “I’ve been looking for you all day. Where you been?” He asks instead, something of a concerned tone masking his usual teasing.

“Around,” Callum says indecisively. “Been busy, sorry.”

“No, listen, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Ben says. _What for_ , Callum challenges with his eyes.

“Why?” He pushes eventually. His words sound tired and small and it breaks Ben’s fucking heart.

“For making you feel like you’re anything less than this really special person.”

“It’s okay,” Callum says with a half-smile, a touch too sad to believe. “I’m not though, am I?”

“What?” Ben questions.

_Oh no one special, just a mate_. Those words have been ringing around Ben’s brain on a loop, static and terrifyingly loud. He’s so angry with himself, all the sudden, and he wants to hide, drown himself in alcohol until the days all blur into one. Until he can go back and introduce Callum to Pam as exactly what he is. _Not just a mate._

“Special. Important to you,” he says eventually. “I ain’t important to you like you are to me.”

“No, Cal-” Ben attempts, something of a desperate plea, but it seems Callum doesn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t matter.”

“Look, that wasn’t-”

“What you meant?” Callum finishes. He doesn’t want it to bother him as much as it does, but he thought they were making something, were becoming something. “Guess we just got our wires crossed. _Again_.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben whispers again. “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. But it ain’t true Cal. You know that.”

There’s a second of silence, a moment that Callum would normally fill with words and it only unnerves Ben further.

“I realised something, a while ago,” Ben says next, staring down at his hands. His voice breaks again and he hates it, hates how weak he sounds. But Callum’s taught him it’s alright to show your vulnerability sometimes. Callum’s taught him a lot, actually. About kindness, about life, about _love_.

There’s a beat, Ben scratching at his jaw, letting out a soft, apprehensive breath. “I’ve been too afraid to say it, to think it even. Holding back for one reason or another, and I’ve been so stupid, _scared_ , but I ain’t afraid no more.”

And yeah, the small talk definitely would have been easier than this. Than bearing his heart in front of the whole damn pub. _Infinitely easier_.

“Ben,” Callum says, warning.

“No, just listen to me,” Ben interrupts, tense as they finally lock eyes. “I love you,” he says, without hesitation. _“I love you_ , Callum. I’ve loved you this whole time.”

The quiet that follows is heavy, weighing on Ben, trapping him. But then the smallest hint of a smile sparks across Callum’s face and Ben feels something else, _something new_ , entirely.

Hope, like a flower after rain, opens and blooms and takes root in Ben’s chest.

“ _What_ \- I mean, _really_? Are you sure?” Callum asks, and it’s all Ben can do to take Callum’s hand. Their fingers slot together firm and familiar.

“You’re such an idiot,” Ben laughs, but his voice breaks in the middle. He’d probably cry if he weren’t all out of tears; as it is, he wants to climb up on the roof and shout until every last person in the world has heard just how much he loves Callum Highway. “I love you so much,” he says, just to Callum. He’s the only one that matters anyway.

Callum leans forward then, careful, slow, _still silent_ , until their foreheads are touching. And it’s into the bubble of air between them that Ben breathes, with the smallest hope in his heart and a whole new universe on his tongue; it’s into the crackling electricity that’s ever-present between their bodies that he hears it: “I love you too.”

Ben barely has time to process it before Callum’s kissing him hard, still smiling as he does so. They can barely press their mouths together because of their teeth, giggling as Mick cheers them from the bar, and Pam coo’s from the sidelines. Ben can feel his heart soaring, can feel everything that’s ever dragged him down trailing behind them in a flurry of dust.

His breath breaks against Callum’s cheek, warm and damp and intimate, somehow. His eyes are shiny from this up close, catching the light like you wouldn’t believe.

“I’m so sorry,” Ben whispers as he tucks himself into Callum’s neck. His throat is tight. “About yesterday, all of it.”

“Don’t,” Callum says, and the sharpness to his voice sounds odd coming from his bright, smiley mouth. Then, he relaxes a bit more, and the next words that tumble out are soft. “Please, stop saying sorry. I get it. _I do_.”

“Alright, alright,” Ben breathes, his eyes wet. He leans in again, presses his lips to Callum’s with a gentleness once hidden under layers of pain and fear. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes you do,” Callum says, strong and unyielding. “I deserve you and you deserve me.”

And just like that, like the natural flow and ebb of a wave, building up, curling into itself, breaking on the shore and fizzling away, every of Ben’s worries, fears, disappear into the stretch of Callum’s smile.

The smile doesn’t stay forever, though, and another look passes Callum’s face. Not one of hurt, there’s not a hint of pain there, just - just shock, the soft kind that tells Ben he’s just come to some sort of realisation. “Does this mean you’re my, _like_ \- my - _y’know_?”

“No Callum, I don’t know?”

In the three seconds it takes Ben to catch on to his train of thought, Callum’s got that look on his face again, like his certainty has dissolved into dust, like he’s not sure if he’s crossed some sort of boundary. “Boyfriend?” He questions after a few moments.

There’s something about hearing him say it, something that makes Ben shiver with how pleased he is, a horde of butterflies coming alive in his stomach. He can’t believe he doubted this for one second. “Suppose so,” he replies eventually, fighting a smile.

“Ain’t ever had a boyfriend before.”

“Well, make this your first _and_ your last, yeah?”

And finally, blessedly, the last of Callum’s confusion and doubt falls away, ebbing with Ben’s until they’re all smiles.

“ _Idiot_. Good job I love you innit?” Callum says, like it’s easy.

“I love you too,” Ben replies, because it is.

And yeah, Ben doesn’t think anything could ever overshadow the look Callum gives him then, doesn’t think he’ll ever forget this moment, the way Callums looking at him, like he wants him, like he **_loves_** him.


	9. weekend kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the anon who prompted ballum & snow on tumblr!

The snow falls on Saturday.

When Callum wakes up, it’s to the sound of flurrying wind and the gentle patter of snowflakes against the window. It’s freezing, even with the press of Ben’s back against his front and the thick layer of blankets that leave them trapped. 

The break in the curtain is pulling all the silvers and navys into the room, and Callum wishes more than anything that he could capture this moment forever, a grainy snapshot of love and belonging and something much more. 

“Ben,” Callum mumbles, trying to roll over. It proves difficult with the blankets pulled up so high around him, and Ben’s grip tight around Callum’s arm, secure around Ben’s chest. “Ben, wake up.”

“’m sleeping,” Ben grumbles, palm smoothing over Callum’s arm.  Callum leans into his touch on instinct, wrapping his arm tighter around Ben’s middle. It seems neither of them can help the tiny sigh that escapes their lips at the contact. 

“’S a Saturday. Lie in day.”

“Not anymore it’s not, Callum asks after a minute has passed bathing in silence. 

“What you on about? You promised.” Ben whines, turning in Callum’s arms. Outside, a lone car sweeps down the street, a brief flash of yellow light that jumps in through the window like a spike in a pulse, sudden and bright, fractured only by the fall of snow. 

Flakes of white are still trembling down, painting Walford as a snow globe, covered in a glassy, sleepy glaze. It’s beautiful. 

“Well that was before it snowed, wasn’t it?” Callum says, the  _ duh _ goes unannounced. 

“And that means we have to get out of bed at the crack of dawn, does it?” Ben questions, lashes shifting lazily. 

“Obviously.”

“ _ Obviously _ .” Ben echoes, opening his eyes. They’re edged silver, lashes wispy steel, and turned to face Callum like this the shadows burrow against his neck and leave the line of his jaw smooth, made for Callum’s palm. He’s smiling, now, that lazy-tired thing, and Callum’s stomach twists just a little, fingers tangling up in loose threads. “Go on then, dig your beanies out.”

—

They venture outside eventually, rugged up in layers upon layers, gloves and beanies and scarves, hoods turned up against the cold. The snow is just settling, building in a soft sprinkle of white dust. 

Callum jumps down the steps and into the powder, sending it spraying up around his feet as he stomps through it like a child. Ben joins him a moment later, complains about feeling the cold of it even through his thick boots. He kicks it up with his foot, watches it flutter in the air. 

And that’s when Callum realised they’re both as childish as each other, age be dammed. 

And, it’s as he has this precise thought, admiring the snow, that a thick ball of snow hits him in the back, right between his shoulder blades.

He freezes, mouth open in shock as he slowly turns.

Ben. has a hand pressed over his mouth, eyes electric and giddy, cheeks squished with his smile.

“You didn’t,” Callum says lowly, his shocked mouth morphing into a disbelieving smile, the challenge already brewing in his bones.

Ben takes off running around the side of the house. Snow dusting his hair and his lashes.

_ It’s on _ .

Callum is scooping up snow as he runs, packing it into a tight ball and following the indents of Ben’s feet. There’s a smile on his face already, bottom lip between his teeth and a fire leaping in his belly. He feels like a kid again. 

He rounds the corner and gets a snowball to the face.

“Ben!” Callum roars, guffawing around the words as Ben cackles, hand over his stomach with wet eyes.

Callum leans forward and spits the snow out of his mouth, uses his free hand to wipe it from his eyes. It’s freezing, sliding along his cheeks and along his neck. He narrows his eyes into a glare, and darts forward.

Ben is too busy laughing to react fast enough as Callum stands and shoves his snowball down the front of Ben’s jacket, teeth bared playfully as they scuffle. 

“Callum! You—oh my God!” Ben exclaims, whacking at his chest, face scrunching up as he tries to release the snow sticking there. 

“Karma’s a bitch,” Callum laughs, shaking Ben’s coat to help rid him of the excesses snow. 

Ben smirks, and instantly Callum knows that’s dangerous. The next thing he feels is a foot tucked around his ankle, pulling until they both their footing, falling the ground with a thud. 

“Shit,” Callum shrieks when he falls into the snow, Ben wrestling above him. He’s already scooping snow into his gloved hands, and Ben manages to get a grip on his arms as he tries to tuck it into Callum’s clothes. After a moment, he simply pauses and drops it onto Callum’s face. Callum splutters wildly, takes a moment to get himself together before rolling them over, teeth chattering.

Despite the insane chill running down his spine, he feels warm on the inside, even with Be. kicking his legs out and wrestling him fiercely. His laughter pours out freely, loud and almost echoing into the quiet of the square. He feels free and alive and it’s just—it feels so good. He feels so good.

Ben is watching him now, their tugging hands slowing. There are little speckles of snow caught in the whips of his fringe, shiny like the morning sun. They’re both breathing heavily, shaking, melted snow clinging to the tips of their noses.

Callum leans down to kiss him, just one, long-press that’s warm and gentle, that he smiles into when Ben sighs against his lips, when his arms wrap around Callum’s waist.

“We should take a bath,” Ben murmurs against his lips. “Lots of bubbles.”

“I second that.” 


	10. safe in your arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this on my lunch break and it hasn’t been proof-read so i apologise for the terribleness of it x

Ben’s entire heart falls through his chest at the view of Callum in the hospital bed. He almost makes an aborted sound, a hurt lump torn from his throat, but he remains silent and shivering, petrified at the _what-if’s_ running his mind. Heat prickles his eyes and he looks away, looks down to his chest. His shirt hangs loose and defeated, spots of red burning at his skin. There are no words for the weight that’s curled a fist into his stomach, pushing and pushing, dragging his heart down. It’s guilt, fear, pain; something he’s only felt once before. _Paul._

The panic gripping his spine only intensified then, seeping through into the cracks between his ribs and wrapping long, spindly fingers around the bones there, pulling and pulling until Callum’s eyes begin to flicker. 

Ben closes his eyes for a moment, attempts to breathe through the memories taunting his mind. Callum tied up and bloodied. Callum screaming his name.

It’s almost funny, how the the only thing he wants to forget is the one thing that he probably never will.

Callum looks exhausted in the harsh light, there are dark bruises under his eyes and a web of cuts drawing attention oh his cheek. Ben hates it all.

And then, as Ben watches on, numb all over, Callum’s eyes move, rounded and panicked and—  
  
“Ben?”

Everything blurs before Ben, throat closing up.

“Cal,” he whispers, tripping his way around the bed. His heart is kicking against his ribs as he reaches a hand out, rests his fingers in the gaps between Callum’s own. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts then, frantic and hurt and full of tears, fear grasping at his throat. The panic is still hot in his chest, but it’s controlled slightly at seeing Callum, eyes open and breaths steady. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to—”

“ _Ben._ Calm down,” Callum whispers, and he puts his hands to Ben’s shaky own. “You don’t have anything to apologise for. This ain’t your fault, alright?” 

“I was trying to be the best version of myself, trying to be better, for you. And now look at you, you’re in the hospital _because of me._ ” Ben says, honesty seeping out of him in waves now, shaking his head as he fights the swell of tears. “I’ll never be good. I don’t know how to be, Callum. _”_

“That’s not true,” Callum presses, feeble and wet, eyes springing with tears to match Ben’s own.

They’re closer now, Ben perched on the plastic chair by Callum’s bed, their eyes shined, and Ben can’t help it when he lets the first tear go, hot and dewy where it clings under his chin.

“You’ve done nothing but make me feel like I belong, even at the times you feel like you don’t,” Callum continues. “You’ve done nothing but allow me to be myself, and in that you’ve been patient, and kind, even when I pushed you away time and time again. And it hasn’t been a smooth ride, no, God knows I’ve shed some tears over you, Ben. But for every tear, there’s been a thousand smiles, a thousand laughs, a thousand kisses. I want a thousand everything’s with you, Ben. The good and the bad.”

Ben hangs his head at Callum’s words, because if he looks him in the eyes at this moment, he’ll crumble. And he doesn’t want to crumple, but he feels his face caving already, caught out and helpless. His vision keeps blurring and he can’t make it stop.

He doesn’t know what to say. It’s so quiet between them, just the steady beeping of the machine, the distant sound of sirens, and the creeping moonlight resting on the window sill and peeking through the yellow gaps of worn curtains.

“How can you say that? You’re hurt because Keanu wanted to hurt _me_ ” Ben says eventually, voice cracked. “And, God—Callum he could’ve—could’ve killed—“

“Hey, I’m fine,” Callum cuts him off, voice suddenly stern. “Barely a scartch on me. I was in the Army, remember? Proper tough, I am.”

“Callum—” Slowly, gingerly, he reaches out and brushes Callum’s hair from his eyes. “This ain’t a joke.”

“I know that, Ben. I know. But it ain’t your fault either, so can you just come here and stop blaming yourself, yeah?”

“Are you—” Ben cuts himself off, and they just watch each other for a moment, gazes skidding before they settle on other parts of their bodies, a shoulder or chest, unable to maintain that contact. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” Callum answers. “But only if I have you to look after me, yeah?”

“Always. I promise.”

Ben’s still shaking when Callum leans forward then, when he presses their foreheads together, and Ben wants to melt himself into this moment of comfort. Callum’s skin is cold, rough, and he smells like hospitals and something so entirely foreign. Yet behind Ben’s closed eyes, he’s still the first break of sun in the morning, the moon peeking through on a clouded night; he’s still the warmth Ben’s been missing his whole life.

When Ben dares to open his eyes again, he wills Callum to still be there, _alive_. Their eyes are reflective, wet mirrors of each other, and Callum’s breath ghosts over Ben’s lips, his chin, shaky inhales and exhales that he matches.

“You should go home,” Callum says, voice barely above a whisper, scratchy and worn. “Get some rest.”

“No, no I ain’t leaving you,” Ben exhales, all in a broken, trembling rush. Heat prickles in his eyes again, and he shakes his head, determined, nose brushing and bumping Callum’s. _“I can’t.”_

“Ben—,” Callum starts, “you need to look after yourself too. You look like you ain’t slept for days.”

“I haven't, been too worried,” Ben answers honestly and he brings his hands up to cup Callum’s face, thumbs drawing gentle circles the skin of his cheeks. “And I ain’t going to be able to sleep another wink until you’re home again. _Safe._ With me.”

“I’m worried about you, though.”

“I’m staying. No discussion.” Ben protests, fierce when he lifts Callum’s chin with a gentle finger. Their eyes meet, Callum’s shiny and anguished, Ben’s pleading and stern.

“But you don’t _have_ to,” Callum says, eyes averted.

“If you think I’d leave you here alone—,” Ben replies fiercely, shaking his head as words fail him. “No, I ain’t going. So just, shut up, will ya.”

“Right. Yes boss.”

The quiet around them that follows is a fragile thing, and Ben barely breathes as Callum pulls in and out of sleep for the next hour. As he wakes again, Ben reaches for his hands, cups them in his own with intent.

Ben holds his wrists with light fingers, stokes his thumb over the inside of them and breathes shakily.

“I was so scared, Ben,” Callum admits then. “I still am. I thought—thought he was going to—“

“You’re gonna be fine, okay?” Ben whispers, slightly shaky because hearing Callum say anything like that makes him feel blue and numb all over. He kisses Callum’s forehead, brushes his hair back. “Everything is gonna be fine.”

Callum starts to cry then, tiny sobs that he tries to trap by scrunching up his face. Ben pulls him in, hugs him close despite the obstacles in their way, and hushes him, just kisses his hair over and over again and lets Callum cry and heave and curl his fingers into Ben’s shirt until the material stretches. “What if he comes back?”

“Hey—hey, he won’t, okay? He won’t,” Ben promises. And God, he’s never meant anything more. “It’s all over. You’re safe. Ssh, you’re safe.”

He’s still touching Callum’s face, almost absentmindedly now, like he’s forgotten his fingers are dragging gentle through his fringe.

Callum leans into him, like instinct, and Ben lets out a tiny sigh at it, the comfort of the touch.

“Ben,” Callum says, a fumble between their mouths. He looks so distressed, eyes so desperate and full. In the distance, there’s a series of sirens alerting.

They stare at each other, half-gasping through their breaths and their tears.

When their lips meet its molten, soft and melty and cautious. It’s desperate and sleepy and they kiss like they’re dying for it, Ben’s bottom lip caught wetly between Callum’s.

“I love you, you know?” he murmurs as he pulls his mouth away a fraction, a sad smile curling over his lips before he can stop it, because he’s scared, terrified even, and mad at himself, so mad it’s taken until now to say the words. The moment the words leave his mouth, he feels something tug in his chest, something welcomed and unexceptional, makif his mind swim, vision fuzzy, yet mind clearer than ever before. “So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I love you,” he repeats, quick and swallowed straight up by a kiss. Callum fumbles their mouths together, breath stuttered and short.  
  
“Love you, too,” Callum replies, the words smudged against Ben’s bottom lip.

“Get some rest,” Ben whispers. His thumb brushing over Callum’s eyebrow, mindful of the bruise there. Then, softer, distant, “You’re safe here. With me.”


	11. in over my head with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ben, callum, a bath bomb and a whole lot of confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lil bit of post-kidnap fluff I wrote a whole back, hence why there’s no mention of ben’s additional hearing loss here etc - but enjoy! 
> 
> title from romance, eh? - blossoms

The light is soft over Callum’s cheeks.

That’s the first thing Ben notices when he nudges the bathroom door open, so gentle that it stays blessedly silent from it’s usual creaking, so tentatively that Callum’s eyes don’t flicker open. They’re alone in the flat, Stuart had whisked Rainie away for a Valentine’s Day surprise and even thought of it is enough to have Ben’s stomach churning. 

It’s hitting evening now, sun setting down between the trees and pouring dappled, milky reflections through the window, splayed along the tiles, just a hint of wintertime hanging onto it’s last breath.

“Hey,” Ben whispers. The door closes behind him without a click.

Callum shifts, eyes flicking open, almost translucent where the light hits, like pale, stained glass. There’s something so delicate about the way he blinks, lashes tangled together by droplets, his brows mused, hair sticky on his temples. The water laps mutely against his skin when he lifts an arm to brush a loose curl from his eyes, a heady silence draped around them.   
  
“Hey,” Callum says. His voice sounds loud in the quiet.   
  
Ben lets himself drift towards the bath, the water is pink, a summer sunset on it’s last breath before the burn of sunlight flares up in ambers and golds. The bath bomb is one of Lola’s, she’d given it to Ben and told him to relax, yet there was someone who needed it more. He dips his fingers in the bath and watches as the colour swirls and the bubbles rift among them slowly, absently, water baying and moulding under his touch.   
  
There’s a vulnerable haze to Callum’s tired eyes, so young-looking with his hair dripping and clumped at his forehead.   
  
“How’re feeling?” Ben questions, not able to hide the wobble in his voice. He settles himself on his knees, reaching a hand out to trace his fingers over Callum’s shoulder.

Callum leans into him, like instinct, and Ben lets out a tiny sigh at it, the comfort of touch, of Callum letting him whisper his fingertips over the outline of his bones. He glances up at him, from under his wet lashes, under his messy brows. Sunlight dances on one side of his face, pale strips of it that bring a white glow to his temple and the tip of his cheekbone.   
  
“Alright,” he echoes for the umpteenth time that day, shifting forward to lean his arms on the edge of the tub, torso stretching, ribs just poking through the delicate skin there. Water slides in droplets along his arms, a soft rhythm as it drips from the tips of his elbows. “Just tired, you know?”    
  
“Relaxed?” Ben asks softly, dipping his own fingers into the bathwater, lukewarm. 

“Mm,” Callum leans his cheek against his arm, sleepy. “Thanks for this.”

“No need to thank me,” Ben says. He tucks a stray piece of Callum’s fringe back in place, letting his fingers linger and watching the way Callum’s eyes flutter shut again, butterfly wings as he breathes in deep. Ben rests his fingers among his hair, scratches gently, both of them silent save for the muted sound of the water pressing up close against Callum’s side. “I’d do anything for you, remember?”   
  
Callum’s breathing is steady, cheek squished against his forearm, the delicate skin of his cheeks so pale compared to the callus of his fingertips and the defined bones of his hands. Slowly, Ben trails his fingers to Callum’s jaw, thumb pressed up against the hinge of it, stroking in minute little movements, nails still scratching gently at the wispy hair behind his ears.   
  
“Gonna fall asleep and drown if you keep that up,” Callum murmurs, almost sighing the words on a quiet breath instead of speaking. A tiny smile tugs on the corners of his mouth, content, and Ben’s heart warms, thaws like hot coals are brushing over his skin.   
  
Ben pulls his hand away slowly, but Callum whines and reaches for him, loops his long fingers over his wrist gently and places his hand back against his cheek, so that his palm cradles it now. He nuzzles into it, eyes still closed. Ben wants to rest his fingertips so carefully by his eyes, by the scar there, a wipe it away with just one brush. Erase Callum’s pain and all the memories it brings. Callum holds them like that, his hand lined up against Ben’s, long fingers overlapping his shorter ones.   
  
“How’re you always so warm?” Ben says. He presses his thumb gently under the cradle of his eye, where his skin is shadowed and bruised, a thin veil of lavender.   
  
“M warm on the inside,”” is Callum’s reply, muffled against Ben’s palm, finally opening his eyes. His lips are wet, scraping over his skin, peach dusted and soft.   
  
“Yeah?” Ben laughs softly, finally leaning close enough to let their foreheads touch. Callum’s skin is wet against his own, hair leaving thin streaks of water over Ben’s temple. “Suppose one of us has to be.”    
  
“Shut up,” Callum lets out in a breathless laugh. He reaches his other hand out and guides Ben’s palm to his chest, holding it over his heart, fingers brushing against a scar, deep and red and frightening. But all Ben can feel is the thump-thump of Callum’s heart, the pulse of warm blood in a warm body, his world beating steady and sure. 

They’re curled together now, Ben’s elbows folding over the edge of the tub, fingers firm over Callum’s cheek, where Callum’s fingers are curling into his own.   
  
“Cal,” Ben says, and it’s a hiccup of breath, noses bumping together, Callum shifting closer, as close as he can.   
  
Their lips brush, but they’re still just breathing, just feeling the warm air settling around them, feeling the warmth of their limbs tangled together. A tiny droplet of water falls from a strand of Callum’s hair and lands on Ben’s cheek, streaking down his face in a race with the stray fallen tear. Callum brushes it away with his lips, the drag of his mouth barely a kiss, just a gentle touch, to feel. “You _are_ good Ben, you’re good and you're warm and you make my world all soft and bright.”    
  
And finally, when their mouths do meet, when Callum dips lower towards him and tucks Ben’s bottom lip between his own carefully, all is blessedly quiet, like the world is just for them, just for this moment. Wherever Ben’s hands trail, wherever his fingers spread of curl, Callum follows, fingertips a whisper over the fine bones of Ben’s wrists, holding on, palms encasing. It’s been far too long since they’ve had this, and Ben’s shoulders sag with the weight of the lastfew days, falling into the touch helplessly.   
  
Callum is a rose beneath him, unfurling his first petals, soft and pink and shadowed at the edges, mouth so open and wet against his own, droplets pinging against the pastel bathwater like shiny pearls. He presses closer, curls over the tub to cup Callum’s jaw gently, that forgiven feeling of stubble nearly pulling him under once more, searching for the feeling he knows they’re both craving. He wants to open him up entirely, card his hands through the softness that’s settled around them, care for every fragile, vulnerable whisper that Callum is breathing into his mouth.   
  
Finally, he feels the whisper of his lashes, wet and heavy, feels Callum’s shaking breath when he tries to clamber closer, clinging to Ben’s hands so desperately, despite how soft their lips fold, how careful their tongues touch.   
  
Ben slides both his hands over Callum’s jaw, tilts his head back and soothes his thumbs back and forth along the line of it, fingertips stroking among the short hairs around his neck. Callum makes a quiet sound in his throat, and there, with the sag of his shoulders and the sigh that he breathes between Ben’s lips, Ben finds his comfort, his home.   
  
“Love you,” Callum whispers, quick and swallowed straight up by a kiss. Ben fumbles their mouths together, breath stuttered and short.   
  
“Love you, too,” the words are smudged against Callum’s bottom lip, his chin, and then their lips are just brushing again, just feeling skin while they breathe. When he opens his eyes, Callum is staring up at him, wide open and vulnerable, cheeks flushed the same colour as the bathwater, this tinged peachy pink that matches his lips.

“I’ve missed you so much.”    
  
It still scares Ben, how much he feels for him, how this boy makes him feel so soft, like his skin is puddy, ready to be taken apart, petals torn from a flower. _He-loves-me, he-loves-me-not, he-loves-me, he-loves-me, he-loves me._

“I love you too,” Ben whispers, but it catches in his throat, choked on a cry. “Should’ve told you that ages ago, but I do, love you. So much.” 

“Stay,” Callum whispers, voice tightly coiled like there are fingers pressed up against the curves of his throat. When he speaks, the words flutter over Ben’s lips. “Please.”   
  
“Always,” Ben drops a firm kiss to his lips, turns his palms to tangle their fingers together properly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t want to be alone again,” Callum says thickly.  


“Hey,” Ben soothes. “You won’t be, not ever. Besides, I ain’t ever letting you out of my sight again.”   


“Is that a promise or a threat?” Callum questions, a delicate, teasing edge to his voice. 

“Whatever you want it to be.” 

The bathwater is cold now, the bubbles sunken and drifting aimlessly with the waters heartbeat, thumping along with their own press of whispers. The light outside is changing, sunset pulling an array of colours on its way. It gives Callum an aura of bronze. All is soft and quiet, Ben’s mind settled, his heart in rhythm with Callum’s, his fingertips grazing the pink flush on his soft cheeks, content and warm.

  
  


_ You’re safe. We’re both safe. I love you.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	12. foolish loving spaces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i can't really remember what this is i just know there's smut lol

There are still things, even now, all days later, with Callum home and safe, that Ben wishes he’d done differently. There are still things that keep him up at night. Like Callum locked in that warehouse, Ben putting their love, Callum’s life, on the line for his Dad. 

But this, Ben can do. This is what he knows.

It’s natural for him to touch fervent along Callum’s face, to dip his thumb past Callum’s parted lips and find that he’s warm and slick inside, to tug a little because it always makes Callum’s eyes go glassy and his cheeks pink, makes his lips gloss red and so wet when Ben swipes his thumb over them. He tugs and pulls and plays because it makes Callum go limp, turns his limbs and his expression lax like honey, body golden and sweet against the white sheets, so flushed just for Ben and only Ben. 

He whines so gently and plants his heels down and presses up, and Ben tugs at the corner of his mouth again, slower, firmer, watching for that exact reaction, not wanting to miss it, feeling the heat that scorches between his hips when Callum’s lashes flutter and he shifts, pulls and palms at Ben’s arse to try and drag him closer, up his chest, his lashes going sticky wet with what Ben knows so well as want, and there’s nothing else in the world that makes Ben keen, makes him throb, as much as being wanted by Callum, wanted so intimately, so close, so much that the heads of their cocks are slippery together, flushed in that same way Callum’s cheeks shine, and Ben is so weak for him, would do anything for him, can do nothing but crawl up Callum’s body and let his cock brush those parted lips, hook his thumb and pull at them again and feel himself passing into the wet of Callum’s waiting mouth, tears glossing his eyes from the drunken, heady desperation of this moment. 

All breath leaves his chest as he settles a hand in Callum’s hair, the other on the headboard, and even that in itself brings tears to his eyes, just feeling the softness of his hair, being able to touch him like this, again and forever. Callum holds so tightly to him, just takes it all as Ben fucks his hips forward, head thrown back. It’s fervent and hot, his mouth still tingling from the earlier kisses. 

“God,” Ben chokes, twisting his fingers in Callum’s hair to make him moan, and he does, somewhere deep in his chest. “That’s it. That’s it.”

Callum’s cheeks are wet, his eyes too, and there’s this look in his eyes coming somewhere deep, somewhere Ben knows only he gets to uncover, it’s so fucking beautiful that Ben comes before he can catch himself, back bowing with the force of it, Callum’s eyes fluttering closed, hands tight on Ben’s thighs. Ben is boneless when he falls back into the sheets, lax and loopy when Callum crawls over him and licks into his mouth, both of them so short of breath that they rasp between each slide of their lips. 

“Fuck me,” Callum says, hips rocking down desperately. “Please.” 

“You sure? You still got some energy left?” 

“Please,” Callum whispers when Ben reaches to clumsily slide his fingers down. “Please, Ben.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ben breathes, bites at Callum’s jaw to keep him quiet, fingertips pressed to his hole. His entire body shakes at the thought of having Callum like that, in matter how many times, he always basks in the moment of being able to press him open and become so close.

“Hurry up then,” Callum grits out, jerking himself off, knuckles knocking against Ben’s stomach with the motion. It’s so familiar that Ben almost cries, almost makes Callum stop so they can just curl up together and forget the world. 

It’s messy, frantic, and there’s so much between. As Ben fucks into him, Callum curls his fingers into the pillow so hard it must hurt, wet shining his mouth and his chin as he pants. Ben drapes himself over the smooth skin of his back and pulls him into a heavy kiss, all tongue and teeth, all raw feeling, and God, it’s perfect. He’s perfect. 

“Harder,” Callum whines, a slur into the sheets, eyes closed. He’s starting to flush again, Ben’s favourite thing, rosy on the tip of his nose and along the tops of his cheeks. 

He tells him how he looks, how it feels for Ben, just a simple: “look at you, Callum, so pretty, babe, so fucking hot for me.” Words could never be enough. 

Callum says nothing in return, at least Ben doesn’t think so, he just slips his fingers back into Ben’s hair and tugs as he thumps into him, pulls until Callum is crying out and shifting back, the sound of it absolutely fucking obscene, the desperate slap of skin on skin, their wet moans and the rain outside. 

He pulls until Callum is up on his elbows, up on his hands, until he shifts back so he’s on Ben’s lap, strong thighs splayed either side of Ben’s, head tipped back. The angle is so much better this way. Ben can’t stop touching him, digging in, cupping a hand under Callum’s jaw, on his neck, not applying pressure, just holding him there. It makes Callum go mad, fucking himself back harder, and Ben can’t help it when he presses his mouth to his neck and whispers into his skin, _so good, babe, so fucking good, look how gorgeous you are, so tight,_ _yes, yes, yes._

“Ben,” Callum gasps out. Over and over. Like a prayer. 

Their mouths find each other, so clumsy. They can’t kiss, both of them moving too fervently, but it’s so nice to just have the drag of Callum’s lips there, to feel him on his chin and his cheek, head lolled back against Ben’s the closer he gets, limbs going lax, cherry mouth parted. The flush is on his chest now. He’s so close. 

“Touch me,” Callum sobs. “Please, Ben. Touch me.”

So Ben does, plays with the hairs at the nape of Callum’s neck with one hand, starts to jerk him off with the other, cock wet and leaking. He’s beautiful, the most beautiful thing. 

“I love you.”

Callum comes with a broken moan, spilling all over Ben’s fist, up his stomach, tears beading in the corners of his eyes, and Ben follows, holds Callum as close as he can to try and stop himself from shaking so much. Callum collapses forward, pulling Ben with him. And. He still loves him, he knows it. It’s terrifying, what he would do to keep Callum here, to never let him go again. 

He echoes Callum’s words, says it with his face pressed against the smooth plane of skin between Callum’s shoulder blades. “I love you. _I love you_. I’ve loved you so long and I’ll love you forever.”


	13. this feels like everything tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another little passage i wrote for a tumblr ask meme - warning: tooth-rotting fluff - enjoy x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from summer - the courteeners

Everything is golden still.

It’s nearing 7pm, the Square usually masked is a dusky blue by now, but tonight, the rare sun has decided to remain idle. The Spring glow is still flashing it’s rays up-up-up endlessly, not ready to sleep just yet, eyes fighting the sting. Almost as if it’s waiting on Ben, watching with caution, winking curiously, a flicker of a ghostly flame, shooting orange sparks and red smoke through the sky.

He’s sitting on the bench in the deserted park, scruffing his feet against the tarmac when he feels someone shuffle behind him. _Callum_. Who else? He steps out of the shadows and directly into the path of the falling sun, and suddenly he’s bathed in honey and amber, the tips of his lashes frosted by the cool air, hair shining, skin all tinged red, the soft glow of the sun can be extremely deceiving at this time of year.

Been looks over his shoulder from where he’s sitting, hunched over, legs stretched out before him. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Callum echoes, a small smile easing the concern shining his eyes, he raises an eyebrow and scratches his nose gently with the back of his knuckles, fingers curled over his hoodie. “I thought I might find you here.”

There’s a long moment where neither of them says anything, Callum taking the opportunity to perch down next to Ben, looking up to the sky, their fingers dancing, pinkies knocking, on the cool wood between them.

“Tough day?” Callum questions slowly.

“Something like that,” Ben hums in answer.

“Want to talk about it?” Callum pushes gently, clear and steady,

“Had a call from the hospital this morning,” Ben begins, words shaky, chest tight. “They’ve got a date for my operation, the cochlear implant. Next month.”

“Wow, that’s good,” Callum states. “It is good, ain’t it?”

“I don’t know, Callum,” Ben says, hoarse.“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Sh,” Callum soothes, and Ben’s cheeks are flaming suddenly, wishing he’d never said a damn thing. But then Callum’s placing a hand over his, delicate and soft, giving it a squeeze and a look that allows Ben to find the courage in his heart he needs. He pulls Ben in then, with his eyes and a hand cupped to his cheek, and when their mouths touch, it’s molten, soft and melty and cautious.

“You’re so strong, Ben,” Callum whispers, and Ben feels it against his bottom lip, this barely-there buzz. “The strongest person I know.”

It’s all Ben can do to pull him back for another kiss, words failing him.

He soon realises they’ve been sat chatting for over an hour when a chill seeps through his bones. Above, the sky has finally fallen dark, it’s cloudless, full of milky-white stars, little bright specks spilled among the ink, clustered together like diamonds.

“Cal,” he breathes, trying to ground himself. Callum’s fingers curl around his wrist and tug, gently at first, and then with persistence. “What you doing?” Ben questions, voice filled with this burst of laughter that only bubbles in Callum’s company.

The look in Callum’s eyes is hazy and dreamlike, all whispers and echoes that Ben never fears, so soft and fragile, an ode to love, to protect. “Dance with me?” Callum asks.

“W—what?” Ben almost chokes out, laughter seeping from his body unstoppable now. “Sorry mate, can’t hear you.”

“I said: _Dance. With. Me.”_

“Nope, must’ve misheard you,” Ben says, teasing. “Because there ain’t no chance you, Callum Highway, just asked me to dance with you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Callum whispers, but Ben hears him clear as day. He loops his arm around Ben’s neck nonetheless, pulling him off the bench and to his feet, swaying with him, tucking Ben’s head under his chin, no escape. Callum breathes out slow and hugs him close, arms wrapped entirely around his back, kissing his neck as they sway to the music.

They’re dusted in moonlight, all alone, blue and navy and silver, shiny eyes and wet lips catching the light. Ben connects their mouths, and it’s the most intimate, private moment of his entire life. Callum lets out the softest sound, threads his fingers through Ben’s hair as they sway, pressed up close, with his spare hand he spreads his palms over Ben’s back and draws patterns, words, with his fingers. Ben is so caught up in the moment it’s hard to follow Callum’s movements, but he thinks he recognises; _brave_ , _beautiful_ , _brilliant_ and a couple of dozen _love hearts._

After, they lie back on the ground, curled up, Ben with his head on Callum’s chest, finding comfort in the rhythm of Callum’s heartbeat, or also knows as, Ben’s favourite song.

They spend hours whispering and giggling and kissing, turning nothings into somethings, looking up to the stars, tracing the constellations with their fingers, creating their own and naming them too.

The supernova in Ben’s chest settles, like it’s there to stay, a happy thrum under his skin, blood full of stars.

“Love you,” Callum breaks the silence softly, presses the words right by Ben’s ear, Ben can feel him shiver, feel him tighten his hold and let out a quiet breath before he continues. “So much.”

“Love you too, you sap,” Ben replies. And then, “more than anything.”


	14. make these memories for ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon on tumblr!!! some early birthday fluff for callum <33

Ben’s internal clock pulls him out of a deep sleep before he’s ready.

Everything is shrouded in dusty, deep blue light, the very first touches of dawn hesitating over the market top. 

They’re still lying in the position they fell asleep in, facing each other, only now curled impossibly closer. Ben pushes his face deeper into Callum’s neck, trying not to wake him as he swallows around the lump in his throat. He wonders if Callum can feel how fast his heart is beating, how hard it’s thumping against his ribs; the way it has been ever since he’d uttered those words, ever since Callum has signed them back to him.

_ I love you. I love you. I love you.  _

“Callum,” he whispers softly, trailing his fingers over his boyfriend’s arm. He’s breathing is deep, his lashes are fanned out softly and his brow furrowed slightly.

Callum shifts, nose scrunching as he makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat. Finally, he blinks his eyes open, pressing them together harshly before blinking rapidly. He makes a snuffling sound, lifting his hand from Callum’s hip to run it over his face.

“Morning,” Ben murmurs, and there’s something nervous bubbling under his fingertips, something that reminds him of how he’d confessed his love last night. Callum’s hand drops back to his waist, and he tugs him closer with a gentle sigh.

“Mornin’” Callum sniffs, nuzzling his face closer. Ben lets out a shuddered breath as Callum’s fingers start to trace the skin of his back, patterns of hearts and stars soon littering the space there. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” he exhales. Callum leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips, holding him there for so long, just breathing. “The best I’ve been in a long time, actually.” 

“Good.”

“Need to get to work though,” Ben says as he pulls away regretfully. Callum lets out a little whine, pouting.

“’s too early,” Callum huffs softly, ducking in to kiss Ben’s neck. His eyes drop closed.

“It’s eight o’clock” he says. “It only feels early because we didn’t go back to sleep till gone six.”

“Was worth it, though,” Callum replies, eyes burning into Ben’s own. And then he pulls away slightly, turning his face up to the ceiling, mouth settled in line. “I wish we could just lie here forever.” 

And _that,_ Ben hears. He always does. “So do I,” he whispers, and then “hold me just a little longer.” 

At that request, Callum tilts his head back to face Ben, searching his eyes. He leans in and kisses him with purpose, huffing out a sharp breath when Ben’s hand comes to rest on his jaw, pressing closer. They kiss lazily, slick mouths and soft fingers that press in just the tiniest bit. Slowly, the light around them lifts and blue becomes purple.

“Pass me my phone, will ya?” Callum asks, hand wafting around, finger and thumb pointing out in a what a child would probably say is a phone, and Ben can only laugh at that, sitting up slowly. Surely that isn’t the actual sign for mobile phone.* 

He passes the phone to Callum, doesn’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes. “What ya doing?” Ben asks.

“Come on,” Callum smiles softly down at him, tugging at his hands as to pull Ben back down on the sheets. “We’re taking a photo.”

Ben pinches his brows together, gives Callum a puzzled look, but Callum just presses a kiss to his forehead and grabs his hands, tugging him down.

“Are we?”

_ Yes. _

“You’re the one who brought me the scrapbook,” Callum says, warm. “ I want to add more photos, ain’t going to stop till it’s full.” 

“And then?”

“And then you’ll buy me another one,” Callum says, and Ben doesn’t need to hear the _obviously_ to know it’s said.

"Go on then," Ben says, rolling onto his back, flailing his limbs out dramatically and head rested on Callum’s shoulder. "Snap me up."

He feels the laugh that punches out of Callum reverberate in his fingertips, straight to his heart. Ben barely has time to set his face before the little flash fills their world, and die out as quickly as it comes to life. 

Callum flashes the photo in Ben’s face, a proud grin taking over. The first thing Ben notices is that he isn’t looking at the camera, but rather his eyes are locked on Callum, a half-smile teasing one side of his face, as the corner of his lip is tucked between his teeth. 

_ He looks in love.  _

Callum’s own eyes shine the camera, and Ben sees everything in them; his happiness, his love, his future, and his home. 

And maybe, this is Ben’s favourite photo in the world. 


	15. slow hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a fill of the prompt: 'can you write something where ben and callum are getting it on (lol) and ben starts to cry because he gets overwhelmed and can't hear callum?' on tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some very mind implied sexual content here x

The thing about being so close, so intimate, knowing each other so deeply, is that Ben is so easy to read, now.

And sometimes, he falls into these sporadic moods. They roll in quietly, like a brooding storm throughout the day, and by the afternoon, his eyes are distant and his shoulders are hunched in, and he plays with Callum’s hair idly and stares up at the ceiling with heavy breaths.

Ben is cheeky, sarcastic; he’s flirty and charming when he wants to be, eyes full and big. He sings loud and unashamed, watches the mouth of whoever is talking intently and speaks low. He’s responsive to the smallest of touches, pliant under Callum’s hands. He’s a wind-up, but to can charm the pants of anyone he wants.

And yet often, he’s the opposite. He’s closed in and quiet, distant and unaware, insecure and frightened. He’s an open book to Callum, and still, he remains the most private person he’s ever known.

So when his eyes cloud over, when Callum looks up from finishing another online police training course, and Ben is staring resolutely out the window, after lying awake for the majority of the previous night, shifting and breathing heavily and unknowingly keeping Callum up too, Callum doesn’t know why.

Callum settles his laptop on his bedside table, turns to cup a gentle a hand to Ben’s jaw and presses kisses there, plays with his hair and tries to get him to relax. 

Ben has a book held above him, a title that Callum doesn’t recognise against an offensively bright cover. His hair is sticking up everywhere, and his glasses are pressed close to his nose. He looks soft, sleepy, vulnerable. 

He’s been subdued all day, showing up to the cafe at lunch with soft bags under his eyes, claiming a fitful sleep. By dinner, he’d managed to convince Callum that he was absolutely fine, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and when Jay and Lola had dragged them along for a few evening drink in the Queen Vic, he sat silently in the corner and picked at a loose thread on his shirt.

As Callum pulls away from where his lips had found Ben’s neck, Ben moves the book away from his face slowly, so just his eyes are peeking over the top, silent and watching behind his glasses. Callum threads his hands into his hair slowly, scratching at his scalp, and Ben’s eyes flutter closed slowly as he breathes out. He lowers his book onto his stomach, tilting his head back a fraction.

Callum leans down and presses a delicate kiss to Ben’s forehead, hand still stroking his hair. He trails his lips down the bridge of his nose, so soft, then meets Ben’s mouth, warmth curling in his belly. Ben’s breath is hot and stuttered, Callum leans over him some more, tilting his head.

As their lips move together, Ben slowly rearranges his body, feet stretching down the bed and his whole torso shifting so they’re both facing upwards, so he can reach out and cup Callum’s jaw. He curls forward, curls towards Callum, and pulls him closer bit by bit. 

They find a comfortable position eventually. Callum settled in Ben’s lap, still twirling Ben’s hair absently in his fingers, pushing down to lick into his mouth with a tease of his tongue, trying to get him to relax, to stop him tensing his shoulders. Ben’s hands smooth down Callum’s shoulder blades like honey, settling on his hips.

It’s then, with a slow release of breath, a shift of his hips, and a tight tug at the curls in his fingers, that Callum tips them over gently and gets his hands on Ben properly.

“You good?” Callum asks. 

“Huh?” 

_Good?_ He signs to Ben in response. 

“Oh,” Ben mumbles, cheeks flushed. “Yeah. I’m good. You?” 

“I will be soon,” Callum responds, but it’s obvious from the puzzled look on ben’s fave that words fall flat between them. “You’re all tense, Ben.” 

“Do something about it then,” Ben says, shifting his hips up impatiently. 

“Hm,” Callum raises an eyebrow, teasing. _Maybe I will._

They’re both so quiet then, and it feels slightly strange. The radio ebbs around them, but it’s lost on Callum’s ears as he cups Ben’s neck, his fingers meeting at his nape, and feels his pulse against his palms. It’s skyrocketing, thumping, and Callum can feel the tiny tremors of his shoulders, the pressure of his slick mouth and his hands squeezing Callum’s thighs.

He wants to relax him, Callum thinks. Wants to touch him soft and gentle and leave kisses on every inch of skin. Despite the extensive amount of time they’ve spent tangled together, each time feels new, his nerves pulsing with love and desire. Callum wants to strip him bare, wants to push him onto his back and suck mark after mark on his soft chest, between his thighs. He wants him sated and calm, far away from whatever’s troubling him.

“Want you,” Callum says between kisses. “So much.” 

He grabs for the edge of Ben’s shirt and moves to tug it upward.

Ben flinches so suddenly, tears away abruptly, circles Callum’s wrists with an iron grip so hard that Callum lets out a sudden, surprised noise, heart slamming into his ribs. It hurts.

Ben’s head is bowed, his chest heaving suddenly.

“Ben,” Callum rasps in shock, blinking wide. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

He doesn’t reply, just continues breathing with a shaking chest, his shoulders quivering. His fingers tight around Callum’s wrists.

Ben,” he tries again. “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me, please?”

He shuffles away, releasing the grip on Callum’s wrist. His face crumples, and he tucks his knees into his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around his stomach, his fingers gripping the material of his shirt as he shakes. He looks so small, so broken, and Callum sits up slowly, unsure of what to do, unsure of what’s happened.

“I hate this,” Ben says, voice quiet and small. “I hate it so much.” 

“We don’t have to do— _God, Ben, I wouldn’t ever want to do anything that made you uncomfortable_ ,” Callum tries to apologise desperately, feeling his throat thicken. “I’m so sorry.”

Ben lets out a quiet sound, sliding his glasses off to wipe at his eyes. He throws them onto the floor and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “It’s not that.”

His voice is choked and thick, muffled behind his knees. When he wraps his arms around his middle again, eyes devastatingly hollow and mouth scrunched up, he looks fragile and afraid. Callum doesn’t know how to fix it this time. He doesn’t know what to do.

“What is it then?” He asks softly, keeping his distance as Ben wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. He heaves in a shuddery breath, twin droplets sliding down his cheeks.

“I cant—,” He cuts himself off and clenches his eyes closed. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Ben, look at me,” he says, reaching a hand out. _What’s wrong?_ He signs, hands slow and steady. 

When Ben doesn’t respond straight away, Callum continues. “Ben, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, or say anything you don’t want to. We can just lay down for a while, go to sleep, if you’d prefer?”

“No, I—,” Ben blurts, scratchy and strangled, his chest still heaving. “I can’t hear you, and that’s the problem. It all just gets so much sometimes. No matter how hard I try, how much I concentre on your lips, and hands, there are moments, like these, now, when I can’t catch what you’re saying.”

As he speaks, he curls further and further into himself. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Callum shuffles forward quickly and pulls Ben’s hands away from where they’re digging into his knees, leaving marks, he rubs his thumbs over the knuckles. “Shh, you’re alright.”

He kisses over Ben’s fingers, hushing him and trying to calm him down. Hesitantly, he places a gentle hand on his back and rubs it in slow circles, worried he’ll scare him away.

“I’m sorry,” Callum says then, because maybe it’s irrational, but the guilt clawing at his stomach is unbearable. “I’ll talk slower, clearer, and I’ll sign, if it helps?” 

“No,” Ben cries. “That’s the point, Callum. It wouldn’t work. And it ain’t how it should be, is it? You having to say everything twice, pulling away from me every five seconds just to talk. It ain’t practical, not when we’re, y’know?” 

“It doesn’t matter, Ben,” Callum says, unsure of where he’s going with his. “Whether it’s practical or not, the main thing is that you feel comfortable, and safe.” 

They sit there for what feels like forever, Ben’s back shifting under Callum’s palm, tears dripping along his jaw and from the tip of his nose when he bows his head. When Callum starts to runs his fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his face, Ben’s breathing starts to slow.

“But do you?” Ben asks then. 

“Do I what?”

“Feel safe?” Ben questions, eyes worried, lip bitten redraw between his teeth. “With me? Here?”

“Of course I do,” Callum says, shocked. “You know I do, Ben.” 

“But you could be saying anything,” Ben explains at the furrow in Callum’s brows. “In the moment, when it’s all heated and—you could be—could be telling me to stop, telling me you love me, anything at all, and I wouldn’t even know.” 

“You know me though, don’t you? Callum says, waits for Ben’s nod of confirmation before continuing. “You know my body, my little ticks, what I like and what I don’t. You know my heart, Ben. And I know yours. That’ll always be enough.” 

“You think?”

_I know._

“When you put it like that.” 

“It’s just you and me, yeah?” Callum goes again, because he wants to make this as comfortable, _as normal,_ as possible for Ben. He closes his eyes, and continues, “it’s just you and me, in this room that’s become ours. There’s _Bitter Sweet Symphony_ playing on the radio, it’s just started, still on that first stupidly long verse. There are a few stray cars travelling by, the engines rumbling through the open window, and there’s distant chatter pulling through too, but the voices are too far away to make out the words. The washing machine is on in the kitchen, spinning like crazy, the sounds vibrating up through the floor. And then there’s me, telling you that _I want you_ , and that _I love you_. My voice all low and hoarse, that way it always gets when you’ve got your hands on me.” 

When Callum opens his eyes again, he notices Ben’s are closed. Shut so tightly there are wrinkles around the edges. He’s got this new expression on his face, his mouth now morphing into a slow smile, crease fading in his brow. 

He lets Ben breathe, lets him gather his thoughts. 

He lets him paint a picture of unheard sounds. 

Eventually, Ben takes in a wet, shuddering breath, and when he releases it, Callum’s heart fills with hope. “Thank you, Callum.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Callum protests. “I wish I could take your pain away, Ben, more than anything. But I need you to know this, you being deaf, it doesn’t change anything, not for us. _You’re_ still _you_ , and _we’re_ still _us._

Ben kisses him then, wet and shaky, but it’s the best kind of kiss, where Callum can feel every current of energy flying through him, flowing through Ben and back to him again, over and over. They grasp at each other gently in the dark, chests heaving.

Ben is almost panting into his mouth, breathless, lips mixed with salty tears.

“Lie back,” Callum says hoarsely, guiding him gently to the pillows. The air around them is static, their gazes magnetic, made to be drawn to each other. Ben follows Callum’s words hesitantly, eyes big and soft, reaching for him.

Callum lowers himself down his body slow, keeping their eyes connected always. He wants Ben to be comfortable with this.

_You’re beautiful,_ Callum signs. 

Cal,” Ben whispers. His hands find Callum’s shoulders.

_You’re so strong_ , Callum kisses him again, moving down incrementally. He continues, murmuring praises into Ben’s skin as he moves, _brave, inspiring, brilliant, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful._

Ben pulls him back up then, kisses Callum with purpose, with love, with everything. “I love you.”

_I love you too,_ Callumdraws on the skin of Ben’s stomach, withone single, strong finger. He parts their mouths once more, attaches his mouth to the spot he’d just drawn a heart, and presses one, gentle kiss to the sliver of skin there. He hooks his fingers under the band of Ben’s boxers, before looking up in question.

Ben is watching him intently. He gives Callum a tiny nod, and drops his head back to stare resolutely at the ceiling, swallowing thickly.

**Author's Note:**

> dingletragedy on tumblr/twitter xx


End file.
